Here were are.
Chapter 4
In all of her memories, the hallway had been much warmer. The long
white and black stretch of tiled floor reflected light back up towards
the ceiling but no heat. The painted drywall on her right and left was
cool to the touch, making her skin rise in goosebumps. The ceiling had
row upon row of shielded halogen lights on either side, giving off light
in great abundance.
She felt no heat at all. She felt nothing. Her entire body was numb.
She could look at her arms, see the hairs raised in an instinctual
reaction to the cold, but sensation itself escaped her. She wondered if
it had something to do with the drugs they had given her.
The hallway was empty. There were no late night couriers running
errands. The cleaning crew was absent. No doctors prowled the floor in
search of a patient to aid. No nurse rushed to battle death and disease,
armed with clipboard and bag. Maybe she was dead?
Not likely. No dead woman felt this much hate. Walking slowly down a
hallway she could not feel, moving on legs which belonged to someone
else, she hated. She hated, hated,hatedhatedhated. She smiled slightly.
She spoke, though whether it was aloud or in the vaults of her mind no
one would ever know, "I hate him, therefore I am."
A thought flitted across the back of her mind, 'What to do when he
dies?' She quelshed it. It was a question she had no need of answering
yet. That would be then. Now was nothing but the hate. That glorious
hate.
There was no one in the hall to see her stagger forward, leaning
heavily on the wall for support because she could not walk on her own.
There was no one to see her weakened condition. There was no one to see
the maniacal grin and the fire that burned in her eyes. The hater walked
on, with no one to see.
Incredibly complex schemes which can take decades to come to fruition
are expensive. People who aren't intensely associated with those who
plan them or actually plan them themselves rarely understand this. After
all, just how much can this plan need financially if it is not for world
domination, power, vengeance, or blood? It could not be too much.
Shrouded in shadows, partially because he liked the dark, partially
because it set his visitors on edge, partially because he wanted no one
to see his features, the man wished it were so. 'Money. The great
equalizer. Any man's money is as good as another's. But of course, that
means to be above everyone else, you need a lot more money.'
Money should not be a problem. After all, some thirty seven
corporations, twenty three industries, and seven companies that were not
exactly on the right side of the law, all supplied the Dynasty with
their services.
Of course, the private hospital was a necessity. The privately owned
munitions manufactory was invaluable when you needed guns that were
frowned upon by any number of federal governments. That deal which gave
the Dynasty their own private airline was a stroke of genius. But then,
Quick N' Easy Chicken was not good for much more than a midnight snack.
The computer scrolled through the spread sheet for what must have been
the thousandth time. Companies which made necessary goods, companies
which made money, everything was carefully organized. The bottom line
was not very clear though, a great deal of profit and loss was not
simplifiable to a lump total.
He had been on his way undisturbed. There were no more barriers,
finally, he would be only one step from that most beautiful of goals.
He stopped his idle tapping on the computer keys and leaned back. A
smile worked its way across his face, barely noticeable but there.
It turned to a frown quickly. A visage rose in his mind, a face which
was wreathed in meaning he did not want to think about.
'Damn Americans. Why can't you just stay in America?'
One of the many small lights on his desk blinked once, twice, then was
extinguished.
The man swiveled in his chair and shut down the open window on his
computer. Then he reached out and tapped a recessed square.
The door opened silently, white rectangle against the dark wall.
Momentarily it was marred by a figure entering, and then it closed,
returning the room to its darkness.
The seated man waited, it was the supplicant who would speak first.
"You'll go blind sitting in a dark room all day you know. Plus your not
getting enough Vitamin K." The old woman spoke calmly and began to
rearrange the only chairs present.
"I'm the leader of the most powerful, supernatural, secret organization
in the world and my maid mothers me. What is this world coming too?"
"Deal."
"I could order you killed for that tone you know."
"True. But since I've been using the exact same tone with you for all
these years and I'm obviously not dead yet, I'll take my chances."
The man behind the desk laughed. He stretched and rose, walking over to
a wall where he pressed several other buttons. A small square panel
rotated, revealing several bottles and glasses. He poured himself
something and replaced the bottle.
Easing himself back into his seat, he drank. "How long has it been
since you actually were just a maid?"
"Almost a century." She replied. She had finished cleaning and moved to
the liqueur cabinet herself. She poured, closed the door, and sat in a
chair across from the desk. She took a sip of her own. "Beautiful
stuff."
"I have a wine cellar which is unequaled on earth, access to any drink
you can name, and you drink straight vodka. Not even expensive vodka."
"I'm old and set in my ways."
This caused the man to smile slightly and lean back in his chair. "So
tell me, what's going on in the world?"
"World War 3 is happily putzing along in Asia. The US is still claiming
neutrality and Russia is openly trying to assist China now. Same old,
same old. Operation Landbound was a success, details on that in my
report."
"Hmm."
"Alpha Alpha is doing something again. The whole Alpha series of
targets are on the move."
The man frowned but said nothing.
"The collectors are functioning perfectly. We've filled J376. We're 98%
completed with this phase."
"Good, Good."
The woman knocked back another sip of her drink. The two sat in silence
in the dark for a few minutes, neither commenting. After several
minutes, the woman rose and walked over to the hidden cabinet. She
opened it and withdrew two bottles. Returning to her chair, she handed
one to the seated gentleman.
The man accepted the proffered bottle. "I am not intending to drink
anything else."
The woman didn't reply and poured for herself again. The man finished
his own glass placed it on the desk. Again the silence spread. It was
the long silence of two who had said it all before, everything which
needed to be said had been said many times.
"There's a lady who's sure, All that glitters is gold, And she's buying
a stairway to Heaven." The man spoke quietly, his recitation barely
above a whisper.
"When she gets there she knows, If the stores are all closed, With a
word she can get what she came for." The woman joined in perfectly.
Their voices moved in exact symmetry.
The chant was soft and smooth, the words rolled around the room like a
small stream. Their voices kept a simple cadence, neither speeding up
nor falling behind. The chant culminated finally, without fanfare and
display. "And she's buying a stairway to Heaven."
The silence returned, this time a temporary silence, one destined to be
broken, just not quite yet.
Only one more thing was said before their meditations went their
separate ways.
"If they knew what it meant, do you think it would still be voted the
'greatest rock song ever' so frequently?" The mans voice was softer than
a whisper.
There was no answer. There could be no answer.
It was less than an hour from dawn. The New York City Morgue was just
settling down from a long night. In a back room, two doctors worked over
a gurney.
The woman on the gurney was dead. This was not particularly unusual,
most people who got wheeled into morgues were. No, the fact that she was
dead was, at most, just part of the deal.
What was really peculiar was the cause of death. Namely, just how she
had survived until she did.
"I think this is the last one." Dressed in what had once been a clean
white lab coat, the tall, blond doctor pulled something from the body
with his pliers.
"Seventeen. .44 caliber by the looks of them." His partner lifted brown
eyes from a clipboard laying next to a large bowl. Inside the bowl were
the aforementioned bullets.
"What did you find from those metal slivers."
"Remember the black oil they were coated with?"
"Yeah."
"It actually was oil. Just got the report back from the lab boys. It's
a weird type of oil only used in very large diesel engines."
The blond doctor looked up. His blue eyes widen incredulously. "You
mean that she-"
"Yes. She went through a diesel engine. After being shot all those
times. Brian, its the only thing which fits the data."
"Russell, that isn't possible. We know she died by strangulation. If
she did this other stuff too, she'd have died long beforehand." The
blond stretched his back and tried to work the kinks out of his arms.
"Look. They identified the pieces of metal found in her clothing as
engine parts. The cam shaft was bent in the shape of her back. It
happened. Impossible as it is, it happened." Russell also straightened
up. He lifted the clipboard and walked to another gurney. "That's still
not as bad as what happened to this chick. Swan dives twelve stories,
hit by a bus, and then dies because of a nerve poison. And both are
found within twenty feet of each other."
"And we find the same guy's blood on both of them. Yet of him there is
no sign."
"There's some weird shit going down, Bro. Weird Shit."
Their muses were disturbed by the sound of the door opening. Both
looked up.
Three women walked into the room. They were all wearing clothes made of
a strange, chain mail like cloth. It was skin tight and rippled when
they moved, but it had very distinct links. The leader wore sunglasses
and gloves. The two on either side had shades but bare hands.
"Excuse me-" Russell began. The woman in from gestured. Her two
followers moved forward like striking snakes.
Russell almost had time to scream. Brian was not even able to open his
mouth. Their bodies were casually discarded.
"Silver, get Page. Fact, Trilogy." The two women moved to their dead
compatriots.
"Iron, Page's Dead." Silver removed her fingers from the neck of the
fallen.
"Trilogy too." Came from the other.
"Damn. Two thirds of Rose's Triad down." The leader spat in disgust.
"Mistress Iron, It was him. She was strangled after being shot. It's
his standard way." Silver had checked the body quickly, searching for
wounds.
"Trilogy was poisoned. Knife went through the back of the neck. Smells
like gasoline." Fact finished her own investigation.
Iron snarled. "Damn again."
"Retrieval?" Silver asked.
"Yes. Mark on three," Iron replied. "One."
Fact and Silver each lifted the fallen from their beds and cradled them
in their arms, as close to their bodies as possible.
"Two." Iron turned and faced the only doorway in.
"Three." There was a slight ripple in reality and Iron was alone in the
room. She drew a trio of metal spheres from inside her garments,
scattered them about the room, and faded away herself.
Seven seconds later, fire alarms went off everywhere. The police were
baffled for weeks over just what had caused the fire.
Waking up to feel the sun on him was a beautiful thing. Coming through
the thin curtains pulled across the window, the rays played around his
face and chest as clouds danced across the sky. He lay back in bed and
luxuriated in the sensation for several minutes. Enjoying the warmth of
the blankets and light. He smiled and slowly opened his eyes.
It was a beautiful morning. He swung his legs out of the bed and rose
to his feet. Arcing his back, he stretched out and shook his head a few
times. He checked the door first. All three hairs were still up. The
shred of carpet balanced on another by the base of the door was also in
place. The window passed a similar search. Then he gave his weaponry a
check. It was untouched.
Shortly thereafter he exited the shower and toweled himself off. He
stretched again and began to don his clothing. Boxers and wife beater
went on first. Full body mesh netting and wiring was second. First
through seventh layers of kevlar came on next, carefully cut to have
minimal impact on his mobility. Over that went the full outer insulation
vest. Then came the outer mesh, gloves, boots, and weapons harness. Then
came the weapons, each of which was first checked. None had rust but all
would be due for a true cleaning within a few weeks. Finally came the
civvies. Cheap blue jeans, sweater, and coat went over top. He did a few
final warming stretches to settle the suit and make sure everything hung
right. Then he went out.
The hotel hallway was empty. No one could be seen, though that may have
been due to the hour. He crossed it and knocked quietly on the door. It
was opened after a few seconds.
After Sagawa came in, Kyle locked the door. He also chained and bolted
it.
Sagawa saw Carin was still asleep and nodded. It was later than he
usually slept in, but she had had a tiring day before. Sagawa sat down
at the other open chair and watched Kyle sit across from him. There was
a long silence before either spoke.
"Anything happen during the night?" Sagawa spoke first.
"Nope."
"Right. Are you a light sleeper?"
Kyle kept a straight face. His inclination was to mention his Gift then
and there but Carin's strong distrust of this man prevented him. He
chose to evade the question instead of answering. "I would have noticed
if anything happened."
"Right." They both had they voices hushed out of concern for the
sleeper. "When she wakes up we'll leave. I'm going out to get us a car."
"Ok. How long do you think it will be?"
"An hour. Two at the most."
"I'll wait here then?"
"That would be for the best. We'll have breakfast later."
"Very well. We have many things to discuss though."
"This isn't the time or place. Besides, Carin should be part of that
conversation. We'll do that either in the car or at breakfast."
"Alright." Kyle leaned back as Sagawa rose.
"I'll meet you here then in two hours."
"Later."
Sagawa made his way out of the room and shut the door behind him. Kyle
continued to sit and watch TV with no sound. He needed to practice his
lip reading skills anyway.
It was in a little breakfast restraunt outside the town that they chose
their next step. They were sitting in a corner booth that allowed them
to get a good view of the other patrons and were waiting for the
waitress to bring their food.
"Alright. Now lets discuss where we're going." Kyle led into the
discussion.
"Before we get into that, I think a few pieces of information need to
be brought forth." Carin replied. She was nursing her second cup of
coffee. Carin had a particular style of coffee she liked. 'Strong' was
used to describe it but was not really accurate. 'Sludge' was more
precise. It could eat through lead siding. "If you don't mind, we'd
appreciate hearing a bit more about you."
Sagawa looked back and forth between the two of them for a second and
then replied. "Alright. I'm a freelance mercenary and weapons
specialist, focusing in firearms though I'm proficient with most other
types of projectile weapons. I was recruited into the war about three
years ago. Since then I've made myself one of the Dynasty's top most
wanted. They really don't like me.
"I was following a plane from Dallas on which were the three women who
attacked you. When they dropped of, I went down after them. I was hoping
they'd lead me towards their leader or any other important personage but
apparently they were after you. I had previously intercepted a message
from one of them to another ordering them to hunt down 'Targets Alpha
Gamma and Alpha Iota.' That means one of you is wanted dead very badly
and the other is not far behind.
"How badly?" Carin asked.
"Well. I'm Alpha Beta. That means you're third."
"Who's Alpha Alpha?" Kyle inquired.
"I'd prefer not to say. Protection of the innocent and all that."
Sagawa replied.
"So one of us is third and the other is," One quick mental calculation
later. "Twelfth." Carin wasn't too sure. She didn't know Greek that
well.
"Ninth. Anyway, since the Dynasty wants you dead, I want you alive."
Sagawa looked up. The waitress was approaching with a tray ladled high
with breakfast.
Conversation ended for several minutes until their meals were dispensed
and the waitress left. Kyle ate as rapidly as etiquette would allow.
Carin disposed of her food slowly. Sagawa was somewhere in the middle.
After everyone had eaten the serious talk resumed. Carin opened the
topic back up. "I hate to ask this but how do we know anything you're
saying is true? We do have only your word to go on and we don't really
know you at all."
"Um. I guess you have a point." The Japanese gunman thought for a sec.
His two companions sat in silence, watching him. "Actually, now that I
think about it, there is no way for me to prove I'm telling the truth.
You have only my word to go one, as you said, and you don't know me,
also as you said. Come to think of it, the only way I could prove myself
would be all perfect times for me to betray you so we can't look there."
He shrugged.
Kyle looked at Carin. She was watching the new man with a very intent
expression.
"So you want us to entrust our lives in the hands of a self confessed
mercenary and murderer on no proof other than his own unsubstantiated
word? We have no evidence he's not trying to trap and kill us, and we
know you're almost definitely working on your own agenda." Carin spoke
quickly and with great self assurity.
"Well, I think your forgetting a few things." Sagawa squashed the
irritation and insult that rose at the brunette's comments. She was
right and people like them were more concerned with surviving than not
stomping on someone's feelings. "I could have killed you several times
already and didn't. I did save you from the Dynasty when they made one
of their attempts on you." He raised his hand when Carin opened her
mouth. "Yes. I know I could be trying to get information or some other
goal. But also lets face facts. They're after you and there is nothing
you can do on your own to stop them. Without me, you're dead. With me,
you have a chance. Plus, if I'm telling the truth, I've been at odds
with our mutual enemy for years and I'm still alive. I am the best
chance you have."
Kyle nodded. His own thinking had been pretty similar. Carin sat back
and frowned. They were both using the same line of logic and she
couldn't think of a way to refute it.
The fact wae they were right and it galled her to admit it. They had
done their very best to get those bus tickets inconspicuously and had
still been attacked, less then five hours into the trip in addition.
They didn't know a thing about the Dynasty, how it operated, why it
wanted them dead, or anything else. Sagawa Ohito, if he was telling the
truth, would be a veritable font of information. Admittedly she couldn't
trust it indescrimanently but it would give her a base, a starting point
to acquire her own facts and figures.
And there was no choice. She hated that with a passion. She always had
another option. But now she didn't. Though once she thought of it she
did but they weren't acceptable. Going off with just Kyle would get them
both killed. The bus incident had proved that. She was effectively
forced into joining up with Sagawa Ohito, a man of varied and most
likely criminal past. She did not like this one bit.
Kyle, used to his girlfriend's changes of moods, watched her expression
move from determination to distaste, stopping for a moment at extreme
dislike, and finally settling on acceptance. She sighed and frowned
again. He reached under the table and took her hand. She looked at him
and nodded reluctantly. He squeezed once and dropped it.
"Very well, Mr. Ohito. We will be joining you." She stated.
"Thank you Miss Wellsferd and Mr. Holly. Now, where were you originally
going?"
"Seattle."
"Really? Hmm. Well, how would you two feel about taking a drive?"
"From here to Seattle? That's at least a thousand miles." Kyle
complained.
"And?"
"Okay. I see." Kyle did not particularly like the idea of travelling a
thousand miles in the Ford Tarpa. Sagawa had appeared later that
morning, roughly an hour and a half after their initial conversation,
with the car. No one had asked where he had acquired it and he had not
volunteered the information. He did have a set of keys though so there
was reasonable belief it was legit. Still, a Tarpa was a medium sized
car, that while not small was certainly not luxurious. It would take
several days to drive that distance.
"Why drive? Why not something faster?" Carin asked.
"Harder to track us if we drive." Came the explanation.
Carin nodded her agreement, begrudgingly. The thought of spending the
next several days cramped in that little car was not one she thought of
with fondness. A look to her right suggested Kyle was thinking the exact
same.
For his part, Sagawa was comparing and contrasting the thousand miles
to Seattle in a car and the several hundred from Dallas, hanging from
the bottom of a plane. He thought this would not be too bad at all.
"Fine. When do we leave?" Carin asked.
"Right after breakfast. The car has a full tank, I have gas money and a
map. We'll eat along the way."
"Where will we stop tonight?" Assuming twelve hours a day, average
sixty miles an hour, that would place them about California was the
brown hared business woman's guess.
"Seattle."
There was a disbelieving silence. A disbelieving silence which rapidly
became a believing but unwilling silence after looking at the other
man's face.
"This will not be fun." Kyle stated under his breath.
He was correct.
They drove for eight straight hours before stopping the first time.
They were on the road again within twenty minutes, just enough time to
eat and stretch. Kyle took over the wheel next when Sagawa was too
exhausted. Carin slipped in and out of sleep herself while the road
passed beneath the car in an endless procession of mileage.
They crossed through California and went north into Montana during the
night. Kyle, though bored out of his mind, was not having to hard a time
of it. His Gift prevented him from getting to tired though he looked
forward to an opportunity to rest his eyes He had heightened his
endurance and lowered his reaction times, which helped when a pair of
totally mundane idiot drivers cut around him.
He resisted the urge to engage in the drag race they so evidently
wanted and continued driving calmly. They swerved around each other in
an asphalt waltz. Kyle watched as they disappeared over a hill before
them and were gone.
He looked back over his shoulder at the man asleep in the back seat. He
seemed like a straight forward guy. Still, they didn't know anything
about him and their lives were in his hands.
He looked to his right at Carin, who had reclined the passenger seat
and was also asleep. She was snoring ever so slightly, barely more than
deep breathing. He chuckled and wondered what she would do if he told
her she snored.
His mind wandering freely now, he wondered if he snored himself. He
guessed not though he had no way of checking. The road passed under his
watching eyes, though only barely noted by his brain.
He flew from topic to topic. There was no overriding theme to his
thoughts, just the wanderings of his mind. He was not one to think
deeply about relations and his feelings for other people. When he had
been young, he had always put it off for later. Now, when he had an
eternity without aging before him, he could procrastinate in ways
previously not sanely possible..
Though he realized, he would probably only live for a few hundred
years. Damion had said the biggest menace to people who live forever is
accidents. Kyle wondered how he would die. Perhaps a plane crash?
Unlikely but possible. A power line would fall on him? Slightly higher
chance but still, he doubted it. His car would crash into that tractor
driving on the road with only one light? Quite posi-Ahh!"
The last part was shouted aloud as he swerved across a lane of traffic
and ran briefly towards an oncoming semi before sliding back into his
lane. The tractor blared on its horn as he darted out of it's way. Once
back in his own lane he drove carefully, panting and getting his heart
beat down. The two passengers in the car, awoken by his cry, looked
around blearily.
Had Kyle been anyone else, he probably would have rolled down a window
and sworn like crazy. As it was, he just waved off the questions for a
sec and continued on down the road.
After some explanation, they settled back down. Sagawa offered to drive
but Kyle said he was good for a few hours yet.
Seattle had not done well after the turn of the millenium. It was in
the process of being adjusted and business centers were moving rapidly.
It seemed that each year, whether downtown was an enviable spot for a
corporation to build or not changed. Business parks sprouted, grew,
towered and died.
At least the crime rate was not too bad. That had been one of the major
areas of concentration by the city government and the police had never
lacked for funds.
"It also resolved the crime almost entirely into the domain of a series
of gangs," Kyle muttered.
"What?" Sagawa looked up from his lunch. Steaming in its packaging, one
Ready Burger Quarter Pounder sat and oozed special sauce.
"Just thinking about the beautiful city of Seattle." Kyle looked down
at his own Ready Burger lunch. It was, well, brown.
"This is truly disgusting." Carin pushed her own meal away. "I refuse
to qualify that as food. Fries shouldn't be crunchy."
"I've had worse," Sagawa replied.
The Ready Burger was a marvel of modern economics. Everyone hated their
food, the interior decor looked like the designer had been on drugs, and
bad ones at that, and the prices were steep. Yet it flourished, new
restraunts adding themselves to the chain with a frequency was amazing.
"So have I, but I don't think we want to get into old war stories.
Besides, that still doesn't make me want to eat this glop." Kyle
mimicked Carin and pushed his burger away.
"Fine. We'll pick something up along the way." Sagawa allowed himself
to be persuaded. Quite frankly, he didn't want to eat here either.
Roughly twenty minutes later, a picnic table in Greavere Park was laden
with food and three people who were doing there best to get rid of it.
"I never thought convenience store microwave pizza could taste so
good." Carin bit down again and chewed.
"Verily. Now, lets discuss that which must be discussed." Kyle was
eating quickly and had already almost finished his meal.
"Alright. You say we're going to Ash?" Sagawa asked.
"That's what the old lady told us," Carin replied.
"Which old lady?" His lunch mostly finished, the oriental man looked at
Carin curiously.
Carin exchanged a look with the man to her right. He nodded and she
turned back to Sagawa. "Julia Bear."
"So, you visited the Bears? Hmm. Good people, always thought I was
about to go and get myself killed though." He looked lost in thought for
a moment before continuing. "Anyway, Ash is a specialty store. It's
about three miles from here and it's always been a meeting place of
sorts for people in our circle. The owner is an old friend of mine."
"What does it specialize in?"
"Curios, antiques, weapons. Interesting place." There was a lull in the
conversation as everyone who had food left finished it.
"Shall we be going then?" Carin asked.
"Sure." Kyle rose and stretched.
"Lets." Also rising and stretching, Sagawa began to clean off the
table. It was done in moments and they piled into the car and left.
Ash appeared to be a hole in the wall in the most literal sense. The
only entrance was in an alley behind a series of unused buildings. The
store fronts which presented their faces to the street were cold and
empty; no light emanated from them to light up wares and goods to be
sold. The alley, even though it was the middle of the day, seemed to
convey the idea of late hours on rainy nights. The buildings on either
side reached up towards the sky and the roughly laid bricks seemed the
floor of a tunnel set into the mountains.
Upon arriving at the door, everyone stopped. The large, iron wrought
portal was set deeply into concrete. A cursory inspection revealed
large, reinforced steel hinges and buttressing bars across the door.
There was not a slot in the door at eye level though.
"Lemme guess, we need the secret password to get in?" Carin asked.
"Well, we could do that. I doubt the doors locked though so its
probably not necessary." Sagawa grabbed the door knob. It turned easily
and the door opened on well oiled hinges.
"That was anticlimactic." Carin followed Sagawa inside. Kyle brought up
the rear.
"Sorry." Sagawa closed the door behind them.
"How did she expect us to find this place?" Kyle asked as they walked
through the small wind break room.
"Well, it is listed in the phone book."
Carin opened the colored glass door and stepped through. She was very
surprised by what she found on the other side.
The entire block of abandoned stores were not so abandoned when viewed
from this side. The walls between them had been either taken down or
redecorated. in the vast room which remained, merchandise spread
everywhere. Objects d'art, suits of armor, and furnishings that appeared
to date back hundreds of years were everywhere. To their right was a
large display of glass statuettes that took up a full wall. On the left
were a series of paintings which had small blurbs below each one.
"Wow." Was all Carin said.
"Nice place," Kyle chipped in.
"Yeah. I'm going to go find the owner so you guys look around." Making
his way off across the floor, the mercenary soon vanished behind piles
of salable items.
The two began to leisurely meander around, examining this and that.
They eventually separated when Carin found a series of display cases
holding assorted figurines and paintings. Kyle continued to wander
aimlessly.
He passed a set of Baroque plate armor and walked through a small
doorway in the back. Inside, there were weapons, lots and lots of
weapons. He began to do a little constructive shopping himself.
"Hey. I'm back."
Kyle looked up. Sagawa approached, leading another man behind him. The
stranger was medium height, slight build, and possessed a dark
complexion. Kyle regretfully returned the large and very impressive
rifle to the case and turned his attention to him.
"Carin should be in the next room. Come on." Leading the way to where
he had last seen her, Kyle took a moment to appraise this possible new
influence on his life.
There was no apparent weaponry and he did not move like a martial
artist. He was wearing a neatly pressed suit so he might have a handgun
or concealed weapon. There were also enough weapons in and around the
room to make this an interesting location for a fight. Sagawa appeared
to be friends with this individual so he probably was not a direct
threat.
It took several minutes to find Carin, she was in the throes of
admiring some late seventeenth century artwork, but upon achieving this
goal they proceeded to a recessed table for conversations of a serious
matter.
For her part, Carin inspected the stranger as well. An Armani suit, not
cutting edge of fashion but still very chic, was well pressed and
cleaned. White gold wedding ring, no gem, decorated his one hand and the
other hand was gloved. 'Very fashionable,' she noted to herself,
recalling the single gloved look appeared to be coming into style in
Paris. 'Gold watch, gold cuff links, gold everything. Wealth has been in
his family for a while, judging by the comfortable look he has while
wearing all that.'
A continued visual examination dictated he was definitely a
non-combatant, probably did a lot of paper work, and was used to his
position. 'He probably owns this place,' she decided.
"Kyle Holly, Carin Wellsferd, this is Theodore Ash. Mr. Ash, Kyle
Holly, Carin Wellsferd." Sagawa made the appropriate introductions.
"A pleasure to meet you two." Mr. Ash spoke with refined, educated
tones. He smiled politely and proffered a hand for shaking.
"And to meet you." Kyle shook hands. 'Yep. Definitely not a fighter.'
"The pleasure is mine." Accepting his hand, Carin did the appropriate
as well. 'Old school rich. This boy's ready for the good-old-boys
convention. Wonder why I haven't heard of him?'
"He's going to put us up for the night and give us a base of operations
for a few days if we need it. His generosity amazes me, he's only
charging us the usual rate." Charging into the conversation, the
oriental mercenary had apparently used all the tact he had in that first
sentence.
Mr. Ash smiled and shrugged. "Business is business," He explained
almost apologetically.
At this Carin decided to ask a question she had been thinking about for
quite some time. "Mr. Ash, why are we the only people here? I would
assume that a store this size would be fairly crowded. As far as I can
see though, it's deserted."
The swarthy gentleman allowed the hint of a grin to cross his features.
"My dear, we do fine business. However, because of the unusual nature of
the bulk of clientele, we keep odd hours. It's a quirk of the industry."
Seeing he was not going to clarify the matter further, Carin allowed
the subject to drop.
"Anyway, we need a suite and time to collect our thoughts. We'll give
you a list of our other requirements later." Sagawa was already
compiling a mental checklist.
"Very well." Mr. Ash pressed a recessed button on his watch and rose.
"Please rest and allow yourselves to unwind. My assistant shall be here
shortly." With that he nodded politely to them and excused himself.
There were several seconds of silence before conversation resumed.
"We'll be spending a few nights here. Afterwards, who knows? We need to
decide what our next course of action is." Leaning way back in his
chair, Sagawa had the look of a man who was supremely relaxed.
"What business is he in exactly?" Unwilling to let this go, Carin did
not like unknowns running around. Not when they could get her killed.
"A lot of stuff. Some of it legal, some not. He pretty much provides
anything the customer wants. Anything." Sagawa shrugged. "He caters to
rich people with," He paused for a moment, unsure how to phrase this.
"exotic tastes."
Further dialogue was prevented by the arrival of a young woman. She was
dressed in a black suit, her hair was intricately braided, and she
closely resembled Mr. Ash. "Hello, my name is Nadia Ash. If you would
follow me." One question of appearance cleared up, the three rose and
followed their guide.
Sagawa stepped forward and walked next to the young woman.
"Howzitgoing?" He spoke calmly and with great familiarity.
"Pretty good. You?" Nadia had a friendly, energetic voice. For some
reason, she reminded Kyle of cheerleaders.
"Alright. Been a while hasn't it?" The two quickly settled into banal
conversation which clearly showed they were quite familiar. Carin,
becoming more familiar Sagawa she guessed, noticed that he was quite
fond of her, perhaps more so. She also got the idea that Nadia neither
really knew nor did she return the feeling. The mercenary seemed to be
holding himself very tightly in check though.
The suite they were eventually led to was on the second floor and had a
view of the cityscape. It was a three bedroom affair with a kitchen,
several bathrooms, and two communal rooms. The whole thing was decorated
tastefully though understated in white and green. It resembled a
penthouse.
The short brunette quickly described the living quarters and informed
them of how to get room service and such. She then excused herself and
left them.
"Old friend of yours?" Kyle asked, looking into the room he had
adopted.
"Yeah. Known her for years. Met her while she was in college." Sagawa
looked around the room, mentally check-listing everything. "Yep. Usual
suite."
"You come here often?" Emerging from his room Kyle decided to pay a
nice long visit to the shower at the earliest possible opportunity.
"Sometimes. Why don't we all wash and change clothes then meet for a
council of war?" Sagawa had given his shower a long, desiring look
himself.
"Sure. Carin, do you--- Carin? Carin?" The only response he got was the
sound of running water from behind a closed door.
One hour and a whole lot cleaner later, the three sat around a table.
New clothes were coming and food was cooking in the kitchen.
"Now. We need a plan of action." Having had his clothes laundered while
he bathed, Sagawa was sitting in one of the lounge chairs. He had a pad
of paper and a few pens before him and was thinking very hard. He wished
he had a few maps on hand.
"Wise choice. Now, what should we do now?" She was clean. Her clothes
were clean. She was about to have a real meal, one that did not come in
a little wrapper. Carin was happy. She was also sitting in a lounge
chair and had a glass of water on the table next to her. Her hair was
almost dry and the smell of it was throughout the room.
"Well, that's the question now isn't?" Nibbling on the end of a pen,
Sagawa looked over at Kyle.
He was standing by the window, one hand holding the curtain open, his
other was in his right pocket. He was looking out across the city and at
the rain which was coming down now.
"Can you tell us anymore about the Dynasty?" Carin asked from where she
was sitting.
"Um. Well. They're a group that's been around for a long time. A long
time. At least five or six hundred years. They are- What are you-" He
trailed off here. Mainly because Kyle abruptly opened the window and
jumped out. They were on the fifth floor.
Both of the people still in the room rose and rushed over to the open
window. The object of their surprise was gone though, having disappeared
around the corner of the building.
"Does he do this frequently?" The black haired gunman asked.
"I have to admit, this is the first time I've ever seen him jump out a
window randomly."
He hit the ground and crouched, his legs absorbing the impact. Dashing
to his left instantly, he increased his speed to the max. The corner he
was approaching was passed and he turned hard left. Actually in the
alley which lead to the front door of Ash, he sprinted forward leaping
at the last minute. He silently went into a flying kick and aimed his
foot at the head of the man in front.
The figure in gray pivoted fluidly and swayed. Kyle flew past him and
landed before ricocheting back and running toward his quarry.
For his part, the quarry stepped into a relaxed ready stance, hands
held at the ready and feet spread. Using his Gift, Kyle began snapping
kicks and punches. The gray figure moved between them with the grace of
a ballet dancer, out of the way before the blow was even extended.
Abruptly, the man stepped forward when Kyle was in the middle of a
complex punching combination. Leaping upwards, he placed one foot on
Kyle's leg and jumped to drive a heel at Kyle's face. Moving his hand
faster than the eye could follow, Kyle blocked with an open palm.
The man stepped off the open palm perfectly and jumped high into the
air, almost as if it was planned. Kyle leapt after him, and they met in
mid air. For half a second of complex aireal ballet they danced,
throwing a dozen attacks and parries before landing,
They stood about ten feet from each other. The Gifted one was a perfect
horse stance, arms ready, eyes scanning for any miniscule tension in the
other's muscles to warn him of an impending attack.
The man in black stood ready, position unreadable. His eyes, so dark
they were almost black, watched the man across from him. A hint of a
smile played around his lips, slightly mocking. After a moment he
adjusted the flaps of his trench coat, gray and worn. Underneath that
his brown oxford shirt covered a thin chest, tucked into green
camouflage pants. The whole ensemble was set off by the work boots and
'gator skin belt. Only one man could ever dress that badly and make it
look good.
Damion White was not that man. He looked hideous, though at that moment
he was a sight that made one man happy. Moving forward, Kyle launched
the very dangerous 'bear hug attack' and Damion was soon engulfed.
"Dammit! I thought you were dead!"
"Hah! You think two measly women can kill me? I've survived for this
long, it takes more than demon witch one and two to knock me out."
Kyle released his friend. "Whatever. Come on. Carin's waiting."
"Lead the way, my friend. I'm glad I guessed correctly and found you
guys here."
The two of them turned and walked to the doorway leading inside. "By
the way, we've met up with this guy, Sagawa Ohito," Kyle said as he
opened the door.
"Gun Boy? Good. I was hoping he'd join the fray." Damion shut the door
behind him and the sounds of the city were shut out.
Right before he opened the door to the main room, Kyle turned. "It's
great to see you again, man. Don't do stuff like that to me. I'm old."
Damion accepted the proffered hand and held it tight, with both of his.
"It's ok. All is good." There was a long moment of silence as they
looked at each other, instantly renewing an long and important
friendship. "And you ain't that old, youngun. Why when I was your age,
we would be thrown into pits of savage cats, naked and tied up in fish
sausage. This would be nothing."
"Cats and fish sausage, eh?" A smile began to peak out of Kyle's face.
"Lemme guess. Builds reflexes like a cat?"
"Exactly." And laughing, the two walked into the store to meet the
others.